


Broken Cigarettes

by MeAndMyGaster



Series: MAMG's Drabbles [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Mentioned Drug Abuse, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide, Swapfell Papyrus (Undertale), Swapfell Papyrus - Freeform, Swearing, description of falling down, mentioned jerry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 06:40:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17299664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeAndMyGaster/pseuds/MeAndMyGaster
Summary: Rus found a solution to his problemsI don't have to point out the tags for anybody, do I?





	Broken Cigarettes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MessedUpEssy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MessedUpEssy/gifts).



> Yeah, well this happened. Because Essy is a butt and reacts with angst and hurt and overall dark ideas when I just share music with her. So there you go, bby. Your trash boy in his last trashy moments.
> 
> The song that inspired this dark drabble - [The Mystic by Adam Jensen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rRUOGd_9orc)

The smoke from the cigarette in his left hand swirled over his head and slowly ascended to the yellow stained ceiling. With a slow exhale that obscured his vision he closed his eye sockets for a moment and ignored the cold sensation in his right arm. He didn’t even bother to take another drag as he felt that his nicotine stick didn’t do anything for him this time. Not that he minded this, fuck no. It was almost welcome now.

He put out his half-smoked cigarette breaking it in half in the process. There were a lot of burnt holes around him on the mattress he was sitting on, accumulated over the past half year he lived in this smelly room. It wasn’t smelly when he moved in, of course, but that didn’t change anything - the landlord was too much of a wimp to do anything about this. He probably wouldn’t come here until Rus was a month late to pay his rent again. Good for him, right?

The skeleton shifted a little on his spot and noticed that the sweater sleeve to his right got hollow during this one last smoke. Well, that happened. He wasn’t surprised to see that but it was still kinda hilarious... was he high again...?

Nah. Nothing he took before made him feel so light headed and calm. And a little cold. Every fancy named shit he put in his scarred body made him either stupidly giddy and full of energy to spend he didn’t actually have or just clouded his mind to the point of feeling like he was dreaming. Right now, his mind was quite sharp though at the same time the whole world around him seemed distant. Maybe it was because it didn’t even matter.

Rus slowly fished the phone out of his pants - which was a fucking tedious thing to do when the device was stuck in his right back pocket - and looked at it though half-lidded eye sockets.

Should he even call anybody now? How did that work for normal people? He didn’t actually plan this but Rus was shit when it came to planning anything. Winging everything most of his life led him here, so why the hell should he change his habits now, right? Let’s do this.

His bony thumb tapped on the screen as he brought up the contact list. Or more like dealers list with occasional “unnamed number” he never bothered to save. There were a few he remembered by heart and didn’t need an ID to recognize. He wondered whether somebody even knew that he did this.

Rus hesitated when he saw Stretch’s number, very tempted to pick him for that last call. He shifted on the mattress again just to scratch the weird itch at his right ankle with the other feet but the sensation stopped soon enough, so he just kicked the empty sock away. His eye lights didn’t leave the small screen though.

It was probably a very bad idea. The guy always seemed to try and save the whole fucking world for some reason, Rus in it included. He was so weird, that sweet fucker. He would probably feel awful and all that guilt shit... he didn’t deserve that. Besides, there was a nagging thought in the back of Rus’ cracked skull that told him that Stretch’s voice might make this process longer and he didn’t feel like going through it. Yeah, no... enough is enough. For both of them.

He huffed in exasperation and scratched the crack under his eye socket with the back of his hand before swiping through the list again. His mama probably wouldn’t pick up today... maybe not even for a few weeks after the shit he pulled, so there was no point in wasting his effort. And bothering his brother at this hour wouldn’t amount to anything too. It was late and he was either already sleeping off his day or pulling an all-nighter at work. Rus was positive he would be greeted with an unhappy voice that was too tired of his shit if he even picked up. And then what...? He wouldn’t believe if he said goodbye. Rus vaguely remembered he had already done that a few times during some pretty bad trips.

The device’s screen turned off for a second but he tapped at it again to bring it back. He closed the contact list and randomly picked the first application he saw - some undernet messaging shit. He might as well kill the time by doing something to occupy his mind. It was fucking annoying, honestly, to fall apart bone by bone like this. And really fucking cold.

Rus wrote something stupid to one of the people he liked to harass over the net. Somehow, the only other person online now was Jerry, so it should suffice. That dumb monster always took the bait and got overly emotional about his trolling.

He slowly tapped some taunting messages to him and noticed his spelling got even worse than usual. It didn’t matter though, the seed had been planted and his phone was already buzzing in his hand from the rapid answers of the outraged monster. His hand landed on his lap bonelessly and he just stared at the screen to see the drama unfold.

It was actually funny in that painfully ironic way. The last person he would interact in his life would be Jerry, of them all. It kinda fit his fucked up life, from start to finish, right?

A bitter laugh escaped him and it was the last sound he made before his face crumbled into dust, leaving a golden tooth and a cheap nose ring behind. The phone buried in a heap of clothes and dust buzzed a few more times before getting still.

The battery was half full when the screen turned off and it lasted for a while. But nobody called him and nobody sent any message until it was drained empty and finally shut down.


End file.
